Because you were there
by danafuchs
Summary: Valentine's Day


Title: Because You Were There

Written by: DanaFuchs

E-mail address:

Category: VR

Spoiler: Every shipper moment... especially in Season 6

Rating: PG

Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance

Summary: Valentine's Day with Mulder and Scully.

Archive: Anywhere... just let me know and keep my e-mail attached.

Feedback: yes, please... it's an erogenous zone!

Disclaimer: Chris Carter gave all rights to me for my birthday! - Then I woke up -.-

Author's Notes: I originally wrote this story for a challenge. The Challenge was to write a Valentine's Day Story including the words "elevator", "stamp", "scarf","rose" and "oven".

Georgetown  
February 14th 2000  
05:24 pm

Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, MD was angry. Very angry to be exact. So angry that not even breaking every speed limit on the way from J. Edgar Hoover Building to her flat was enough to vent her anger.

Therefore the button on the elevator had to suffer under her fury.

She could swear that the little white button looked liked her partner

just as her index finger bored into it.

She couldn't believe that Mulder had done what he had done. On Friday he had promised her that they would concentrate solely on overdue paper work this week - today he simply hadn't shown up to work. His cell phone was turned off and his answering machine in his flat

informed her that he was out of town for a few days.

She had directed her rising anger that soon smothered her initial worry at his machine, promising him and her that she wouldn't come to his rescue this time.

When she arrived at her apartment, she decided to drown the anger in a hot bath and a glass of red wine.

After she hung her coat, she carried her bag into the bed room and pulled out the mail which she collected on the way. She put the bills onto a pile, as always they would get paid on the weekend. Then she looked at a post card from Charlie, but the content was already familiar from what her mother had told her.

Finally her attention was drawn to a little white envelope. The address had been written with a computer and the sender was missing.

Scully's investigative skills kicked in and she examined the envelope closely. The only clues leading to the sender were the marks on the stamp, indicating that the letter had been send in Quonochontaug, Rhode Island. Although the name of the town rang a bell, she couldn't remember where she heard it before.

The only thing she was sure of was that she knew nobody who lived there. Scully began to ask herself whether Mulder had received a similar letter and if that was the reason for his disappearance.

She carefully opened the letter with a knife and shook the envelope until the content fell out of it. After all she didn't want to smear any fingerprints.

Uncertain, she starred at the content for a few minutes. In front of her lay a simple piece of red carton with the words "Happy Valentine's Day" on it. She hesitated a moment, then grabbed a pen and turned the heart-shaped carton around. On the back there was a typed message.

Actually it was less than that. Only and address in the outskirts of

D.C. and the order to be there at 8 pm, alone.

Scully looked at the card skeptically. Who sent it? An informant? A secret admirer? A lunatic?

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the last mysterious gift she had received, a pendant with a burning heart that Phillip Padgett - member of the last two categories - had given to her.

Sighing, she left the card behind and headed for the bathroom.

Whoever had written the card would have to wait for her a bit longer.

The warm water actually managed to loosen the muscles that ached from too much paper work. She blamed Mulder for that. Her anger had died down too, however her curiosity had grown.

She wrapped a towel around her and went back into the bedroom, where the card caught her eye again.

Scully caught herself thinking about what Mulder would do now. A bitter voice in her head answered immediately. He'd run off without looking back again. Without thinking about the risks - or Scully.

She glanced at the clock and noticed that it was nearly 9 pm. If the sender was an informant, he would be gone by now. A secret admirer would wait a while but go home eventually, too. And a lunatic? He would probably make up another plan or stalk her apartment.

So it would be possible to get a closer look at the location safely.

On her own. Without Mulder.

Scully pulled on jeans, a sweater and shoes quickly, took her scarf and coat, grabbed her purse and went out into the cold night.

Somewhere in the outskirts of Washington D.C.  
February 14th 2000  
09:42 pm

Scully slowly drove past the house. The house stood alone, away from the street between some trees. It seemed unusually quiet and peaceful in the city jungle of Washington. The garden didn't look like anyone was taking care of it but Scully thought she could see a light dancing behind a closed curtain on the front of the house.

Maybe the anonymous writer hadn't left after all?

Scully decided to park the car a few feet away and walk the rest of the way - after she opened her purse to be able to get her gun quicker in case of an emergency.

A car was parked in front of the house.

Scully was surprised to see it was Mulder's.

Maybe he had received a card, too? Was this the reason for his disappearance, had he been ambushed?

Worry welled up inside Scully and she walked around Mulder's car paying attention to every detail. The doors were closed and showed no traces of Mulder being forced to leave the car.

Suddenly she turned around, scared.

"Hey Scully. I almost gave up on you," the voice of her partner came from the front door.

Scully felt like she had gone through this moment before.

"Mulder, who lives in this house?" she asked carefully.

"No one."

"If you are going to tell me that we're here to hunt the ghost of lovers that committed suicide on Valentine's Day, I'm leaving!

Mulder, you promised we'd take care of the paper work. I was expected that you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation long and drag along a case on Wednesday, but today it's only Monday!"

He sighed and hung his head.

"I'm sorry Scully. I didn't want... I only wanted to..." he stammered sounding oddly wounded.

"Whatever it is Mulder, it has to be very important," she observed.

He only nodded, took her hand and led her toward the house.

"Nothing on this earth is more important," he whispered into her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine as his breath touched her neck.

While she was still wondering about the meaning of his last words he already opened the door and led her into the living room of the house.

The dancing light came from a fireplace, emitting cozy warmth and chasing the cold of the night that crept through the door with them.

Mulder took her coat and disappeared into the next room saying "I'll be right back."

Scully took in her surroundings. The room was decorated with tasteful, comfortable furniture. Most of the pace on the wall facing the fireplace was taken up by a huge bookshelf. In addition to books there were framed photographs. In the middle of the room there was a couch facing the fireplace as well as two leather armchairs. There were two glasses on the couch table next to a filled bottle cooler.

Confused, Scully sat down on the couch and tried to process the information.

Mulder had sent her an anonymous card and lured her into this small house. It seemed there was no X File waiting for her, only a quiet evening in front of the fireplace. Scully didn't know what Mulder had planned, but she had to admit that knowing where her partner was comforted her somewhat. However one question kept bugging her.

Why was he doing it?

Dana Katherine Scully was not one of the women who loved surprises.

She preferred being able to plan and organize thinks. Mulder had upset her plans more than once, but until know it had always been about work. But that was different today.

Today he was different.

He was silent, serious and he had a nervous air around him. Mulder always carried his self-doubt with him, but he was able to hide it from most people. Showing nervousness on the outside was something he seldom did. That could only mean that this must be very important for him.

Mulder came into the room and ended her train of thought.

"I only put the lasagna back into the oven," he explained as if that would answer all her questions, took the wine from the bottle cooler.

"Wine?" he asked politely and started pouring before she had the chance to answer. He handed her a glass and sat down next to her to take a sip from his glass. Scully mimicked his actions and broke the silence after a while.

"Mulder, what is all this about?" she asked carefully and looked into his eyes.

He avoided her look and sighed.

"Scully, when was the last time we talked? I mean really talk. Not about work."

"You are not Eddie van Blundht, are you?"

He shook his head smiling.

"I spent the weekend in Quonochontaug and I thought about the year so far, New Year's resolutions and so on?"

He got serious again.

Scully tried to cover up her growing nervousness with humor.

"You made New Year's resolution? I sure didn't notice anything."

He was about to answer as a shrill sound came from next door. "Food's ready," he announced, got up and offered her his hand to help her up.

Curiously, Scully let him lead her into the cozy kitchen of the house.

The room was dimly lit by a small light glowing above the counter. In one corner Scully could make out the silhouettes of different furniture, that turned out to be a small table and two chairs as Mulder lit the candle that set next to a vase holding a single red rose.

Astonished, Scully took in her surroundings, while Mulder filled two plates with lasagna.

Scully couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for her without any reason. She sure hadn't expected Mulder to do it. The whole situation reminded her off those dreams she always locked away in the corner of her brain. The one she only let out when loneliness threatened to eat her up from inside.

Without a doubt they looked like a couple, spending a romantic Valentine's Day together to outsiders. But Scully didn't allow herself to follow that train of thought. She wasn't sure if she could handle a rejection and she didn't want to interpret too much into the whole thing.

Scully was so deep in thought, that she didn't hear what Mulder was saying. As he was pulling out a chair for her and looking at her expectantly, she figured he must have asked her to have a seat.

Seconds after she was seated Mulder set down a plate in front of her and set down on the other side of the table.

He watched her as she took the first fork of food and guided it to her full lips.

Scully's skeptical look turned into surprise as soon as the first bite reached her taste buds. She threw him an appreciative look he smiled back and began eating himself.

After they had eaten in silence for a few minutes Scully spoke again.

"If one of your resolutions was to cook the best lasagna in the world, you can delete it from your list. You succeeded."

He smiled contently. The smile suited him but he didn't show it enough. Scully decided to try and change that.

"Thank you," he answered. "But it actually is more about something you said last year," he explained while he began to clear the empty plates and poured more wine for Scully. Scully lifted an eyebrow.

Mulder smiled.

"About stopping, getting out of the car, settle down. Have a normal life besides work." He met her big, surprised eyes with a smile, put his hand on the small of her back and guided her back into the living-room where he turned toward the fireplace to add some wood before sitting down on the couch next to her and continuing with his explanation.

"I called my old friend Steve and visited him on the weekend. I thought it might be a start to revive an old friendship."

Scully nodded understandingly. It would do him good to have an escape from work. She suppressed the wish to be that escape. Her partner seemed to have something on his mind and she wanted to be there for him and not follow her daydreams.

"We talked a long time... He was impressed by our work, Scully. But he couldn't understand that I still wasn't married." Mulder sighed quietly and then smiled mischievously. "He even wanted to set me up with his neighbor. He said she was my 'type'. Did you know that I have something like that, Scully?" It was a rhetorical question, but she answered anyway. "Brunette, tall, long legs, busty." Now it was Mulder's turn to look surprised.

"That's what he said," he observed. "And then I realized something."

He hesitated and gave Scully an unsure look.

"I realized," he started after a few minutes of silence "that he was right."

Scully felt her heart contract.

"Women like her used to be my type... But that has changed." Scully looked at him questioningly while he took another sip of wine before continuing.

"Almost seven years ago..." he whispered and looked down to his shoes, embarrassed. "Back then a petite redhead walked into my office and changed everything."

Scully's heart began pounding and she opened her mouth to say something but she couldn't find the words. Although her heart understood what he wanted to tell her, her brain refused to believe him.

"I can't deny that I've been attracted to her from the beginning - not anymore," he sighed again but still didn't look at her. "But it became much more than that. Although I tried to fight it, she became my only confidante, my best friend and the most important person in my life. I told myself that that was enough. For the first time in years I felt accepted. Even by someone who knew virtually everything about me. For the first time in ages I felt that I didn't have to pretend anything in order to be liked and taken seriously. That was much more than I ever expected form a relationship and I didn't want to be greedy and push what little luck I had. So I settled for the friendship.

That worked quite well - until..."

He stopped, took a deep breath and another sip and let his gaze wander from his shoes to hers and up. Her hands were holding a tissue in her lap shakily. "What... what happened?" she asked with a trembling voice.

He was still looking at her hands but his eyes lost their focus.

"They managed to take away her determination. She had to go through so much because of me that she wanted to give up the fight - my fight - when she was given the choice. I couldn't blame her, but I wanted her to know the truth... for a short moment time seemed to be standing still and I was sure that I saw something in her eyes. It gave me hope that she was feeling this thing between us, too. But before I could react the moment was destroyed in the most brutal way and she was taken from me.

I was angry at the men who did that to her, angry at myself because I let them. But I was lucky. I was able to save her. But she never mentioned the moment again and I wasn't sure anymore whether I'd really seen something in her eyes or my own desperation had been playing tricks on me.

We got our work back and I buried myself in it to forget my pain.

Every time I tried to tell her how I feel the memory of the moment when she told me she was leaving the FBI - me - came back. Even the memory of the emptiness that began to expand inside me hurt enough to keep me from telling her. I knew that my world would collapse if she rejected me. I was hoping for a sign for a long time, but at some point I gave up.

Then, two days ago, I had dinner with Steve, his wife and his neighbor. It was a really nice evening, but I felt out of place. I don't belong there anymore. My life has changed too much. On the way back Steve tried to cheer me up. He said that I would find the right woman, that I only had to look for the signs. I told him that I didn't believe in signs anymore and he answered that they were there. I only had to recognize them - not with the mind, but with the heart.

And so I ended up thinking about last year. With the heart."

His gaze focused again and followed her hand that held the tissue to her face where a tear was rolling over her cheek. The tissue absorbed the tear and his gaze locked with her deep blue watery eyes.

"Do you want to know what the best moments were?" Mulder whispered softly. Scully nodded weakly. "Opening gifts with you on Christmas, after we had thought that we shot each other a few hours earlier...

Fighting you for disgusting tofu ice cream on a Saturday morning in the office and holding you in the evening to play baseball... Lying on the gurney next to yours and holding your hand in an ambulance...

Comforting you after some lunatic tried to rip your heart out of your chest."

More tears sprung from her eyes and the tissue had trouble wiping them all away so he cupped her cheek and helped with his thump.

"But the very best was to put a pink plastic flamingo in the front yard in a rebellious act. Not because of the rebellion, but because it was *our* front yard, Dana. The yard in front of the house we lived in *together*. That place stood for everything I hated.

Shallowness, blind allegiance based on fear, rules that have to be followed strictly. Yet I couldn't hate that place, because everything I never dared to dream of was possible there. I felt like I had a home, a family for the first time since my sister had been abducted because I was married to the most wonderful woman in the word. It was the most perfect place in the world, because you were there, Dana."

The tissue gave up the fight against the tears and Scully buried her face in his shirt, sobbing. Mulder pulled her close and pressed his lips to her hair. Only when he noticed the salty taste he realized that he was crying, too.

"All these years I focused so hard on finding my sister that I didn't see the signs, Dana. I still haven't found Samantha but I found something else. I didn't even know how much I needed it."

He loosened his embrace and cupped her chin to lift her head until she looked up at him. "Love," he whispered and bent down to close the distance between their lips.


End file.
